Save Regrets For The Broken
by soyxunxperdedor
Summary: Set Pre-Series.  Dean checks in on Sam at Stanford, and he's not as sneaky as he thought he was.  Wincest.


**AN: There's no point to this except for good old fashioned Sam & Dean sexiness. I might write a sequel in which the fucking will commence. Maybe. Depends on the demand I suppose.**

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><p>Sam looked really happy, and Dean wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he really wanted his little brother to be happy. On the other hand, Dean had never seen him that happy, and that meant Sam had to abandon his family to finally have that kind of happiness.<p>

That last part made Dean feel like shit. He'd been by his brother's side for 18 years, and things were going pretty damn awesomely if he did say so himself. Sam didn't see it that way apparently, and it hurt Dean that he'd jumped at the first chance to get away from him.

Sure, Sam had acted like it was just Dad he wanted to get away from, that he just wanted to live a normal life, but Dean got the implications. Sam wanted to get far away from his sick incestuous brother, live a life where he could pretend he hadn't lost his virginity to someone he shares parents with.

Dean didn't really blame him for that. It had been almost six years since they had begun their fucked up relationship, and Dean has hated himself every single day of it. But he loved Sam too much to let that get in the way.

Dean took a moment to be glad Sam had been lax with his hunting skills, because otherwise he would've swept the bar the moment he came in, spotting Dean in the secluded corner, nursing a beer. He watched as his brother sat down in a booth with a couple of other people, a black guy and a pretty blonde girl that Sam kissed in greeting.

Dean felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that he realized was jealousy. He wasn't surprised, part of Sam's search for the American dream or whatever was finding a nice girl to settle down with. Dean stopped angsting for a moment and marveled at the fact that Sammy had at least snagged a hot girl.

Even though it was bordering on stalking Dean couldn't tear himself away from watching Sam. The younger Winchester had an unshakeable smile on his face and it made Dean's heart hurt that he wasn't the one putting it there.

Finally, after an hour and a half of drinks and jokes and kisses with his girlfriend, Sam stood to leave. Dean read his lips when he said he was going to hit the can and head out. As soon as Sam was in the bar's bathroom Dean stood, tossing a handful of bills onto his small table, leaving a nice tip because the waitress had been nice even after he hadn't flirted back. Dean slipped out of the bar, giving Sam's girlfriend an appraising glance as he walked by. Damn Sam had done good.

The hunter ducked into the alley beside the bar, knowing Sam would have to come this way to get back to Stanford. He leaned his shoulder against the damp wall, bricks cold even through his leather jacket. His gaze was intent on the sidewalk, ready to grab Sam when he walked by, so it came as a great surprise to him when an arm snaked around his neck and a knife pressed to the side of his throat.

"Did you think I didn't see you, Dean?" a voice whispered in his ear.

He froze. "Sammy?" The arm released him and he spun around, finding himself face to face with his brother. "A friggin' switchblade? Really?" he asked as Sam closed the offending weapon, slipping it back into his jean's pocket.

Sam shrugged. "It cuts the same but it's less suspicious than a hunting knife. What are you doing here Dean?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. This wasn't going the way he'd planned. He'd wanted to grab Sam, drag him into the alley, throw him against the wall and let their instincts go from there. He hadn't planned on any chick flick moments, but if he and Sam were going to talk this out, there were chick flick moments to be had.

"I wanted to see you," he said, opting for blunt honesty.

Sam snorted. "You want to see me, yet you hide in the corner of a bar for almost two hours and then stalk me in an alley. What's going on Dean? Is Dad ok?"

"He's fine Sam. I just…" Dean trailed off, running a nervous hand through his short hair. "I missed you Sammy. A lot." He avoided eye contact with his brother, not feeling comfortable with the sharing that was going on.

Sam surged forward, grabbing fistfuls of Dean's leather jacket, twisting them and slamming Dean into the wall. Before Dean could protest the abuse Sam's lips were crushed against Dean's, tongue flicking out and asking for entrance. Dean granted it, lips opening with a low groan. Their tongues intertwined, battling for a dominance they both knew Dean would win.

Dean threaded his fingers through Sam's thick brown hair, jutting his hips forward to grind against Sam's, causing both of them to moan. Sam's hands found Dean's waist and pushed his ass back against the wall, taking some degree of control. He rocked his hips into the older hunter's, noticing immediately that he was rock hard.

Dean came to his senses and pushed Sam's head back gently. "What about that blonde girl in there?" he asked, voice huskier than usual.

"Jess? I care about her, but compared to you? She's a placeholder Dean," Sam said, pleading with his eyes for Dean to believe him. Whether he did or not didn't matter, he was already kissing him again.

Sam's hand slid from Dean's waist to his fly, making quick work of the button and zipper. Dean gasped as Sam's hand slipped into his boxers. Sam moved to pull him out but Dean stopped him.

"What are you doing?" the older Winchester asked breathlessly.

Sam laughed. "Dean, don't even try to tell me you're not an exhibitionist." Sam leaned in close to Dean's ear. "Just the thought of me jerking you off in this alley makes you want to come in your pants," he teased, biting Dean's earlobe. Dean moaned, Sam's words ringing true in his ever growing erection. Sam pulled away with a smirk. "That's what I thought."

"You're a dick," Dean managed between clenched teeth.

"You love it," Sam replied, pulling Dean's erection out. Dean was about to give a witty retort but Sam gripped him tight, hand pumping in an agonizingly slow rhythm. The comeback died on his lips, replaced with a deep gasp.

"S-Sam…" Dean groaned, leaning his weight against the wall so he wouldn't hit the wet pavement.

"Yes, Dean?" the younger Winchester asked, resting his forehead against Dean's. His hand slid up, thumb sliding over the head to catch the precum and spreading it back down.

"Harder," he breathed. He tried to keep his hips still, knowing Sam liked to do all the work when it came to this, but he couldn't help the few shallow thrusts that snuck through. His chest rose and fell, balls tight, the feeling in the pit of his stomach seeming to swallow his entire body.

Sam reached the perfect pressure and speed and Dean's head fell back with a solid thunk, Sam wincing a little but not lessening his ministrations. Sam leaned forward and captured Dean's lips, catching the moan that was bound to break the surface because Dean was coming hard, spurting in Sam's hand like he hadn't done in a long time, not since Sam went to college.

"Jesus Christ, Sam," he panted after Sam had pulled away. "That was the best fucking hand job I've ever had."

"You're damn straight it is," Sam said with a smile. "You got a motel room?"

"Of course. Why?"

Sam smirked, something he seemed to have been doing all night. "Because we have some catching up to do."


End file.
